


fall back into place

by ephemeralgrime



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Body Worship, Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Platonic Sex, Praise Kink, casual ghoul polyamory, magical healing cock but like. in a chill emotionally satisfying way, you've heard of size difference now get ready for Size Sameness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralgrime/pseuds/ephemeralgrime
Summary: “Aether,” Omega says, picking up Aether’s hand. He rubs a calloused thumb over Aether’s pointer finger, then the next digit, then traces the way down the rest of his hand. “The bodies that we’ve been given - they need to be cared for. The Unholy Father wants you to feel good. I know you haven’t been treating yourself well.”
Relationships: Aether | Quintessence Ghoul/Omega | Quintessence Ghoul
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	fall back into place

**Author's Note:**

> set sometime in early era iv, post-emeritus-exodus, pre-popia-ascension, but ghouls from every era are still at the abbey, because i make the rules!
> 
> shout out to @nolightss for planting this idea in my mind months and months ago while i slowly nurtured it to life like a fragile little seedling. i hope you dig it! and a big thanks as always to [@backwards_blackbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backwards_Blackbird) for the much-needed beta and for putting up with my self-indulgent nonsense <3

“Sorry - are you awake?”

As soon as he asks it, Aether feels like an idiot. Omega is standing right in front of him, looking a little tired but very much awake and probably waiting to hear why Aether has deposited himself on his doorstep at midnight like both the cat and the half-dead prey it dragged in.

But Omega - as though he’d been expecting him - says, “Aether. Come in,” like it’s a perfectly normal thing to barge into your mentor’s home in the small hours of the morning. He steps back to open the door, and the yellow sliver of light behind him resolves into a dim entryway. 

“Before you ask, you didn’t wake me up,” he says as Aether slinks past him, like he can scent the anxiety on him. He probably _can._ Omega’s powers have always been stronger and stranger than Aether’s. More than once he’s wondered if he can read his mind. “Alpha’s out. I have trouble sleeping without him.”

“Hmm,” Aether says noncommittally, fidgeting with the links around his wrist, not sure what to do with himself now that he’s here. This was more of a Dewdrop move: showing up unannounced with no plan and seeing where your mouth takes you.

Omega picks up a mug from the small kitchen counter and takes a sip, waiting, looking a little amused. Aether stares back at him, suddenly feeling extremely conspicuous in the middle of the room. The yellow warmth of Omega’s cabin is always a respite from the dark, unwelcoming chill of the abbey at this hour, but it almost feels _too_ nice, _too_ pastoral. Aether feels like every second he’s standing here fidgeting and not saying anything - _he still hasn’t said anything!_ \- he’s oozing black ichor, poisoning the atmosphere with his misery.

“I’m sorry,” he says, already fumbling over what he wants to say. “It’s just -”

Concern crosses Omega’s face, just barely deepening the lines between his eyes. _My elevens_ , he’d called them once, when Aether teased him about being old. Perceptive as always, he moves to the couch, setting his mug on the coffee table in front of him. “Aether, tell me,” he says, gesturing to the cushion next to him. 

The problem is, it’s not any _one_ thing. It’s a whole Jenga tower of _everything_ \- the precariousness of the church with Nihil's unsteady hand at the wheel, the trifecta of an interpersonal clusterfuck between Nihil and Copia and Imperator, the expanded responsibilities of the ghouls, scrambling to patchwork together a job that three Emerituses did before - it's all too much. 

Add the meeting with Copia that had gone long today and ended with Aether slamming the door behind him and walking here, and well - yeah, that’ll do it. He feels stretched gossamer-thin and translucent, like you could see right through him if you held him up to the light. Like a resin cast of himself, flat and steamrolled. A little souvenir clearance Aether instead of the real thing.

The banged-up couch sags underneath him as he sits and tells Omega all of this - halting in some places, floodlike and rushing in others. Omega, ever patient, doesn’t interrupt - just listens thoughtfully, going _hmm_ at all the right beats. 

Aether talks for so long that Omega finishes his tea and has to go back to the kitchen to brew more, waving at him to keep going while he spoons honey into the chipped ceramic mug. 

“And have you talked to Dewdrop about this?” Omega says, stirring the spoon as he sits back down next to him.

Aether very carefully says nothing. 

Omega makes a face. “You’re fighting.”

“Not… We’re not _fighting_ fighting, but when we both get like this - ugh,” Aether says, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it’s a whole _thing,_ a five-finger ordeal, like he can force the bad mood out of his head with his hand if he tries hard enough. 

He and Dewdrop - they’re just... misaligned, is all. Snapping at each other. There’s no real venom to it, but he feels like they got out of sync at some point a few weeks ago and haven’t been able to realign since. Arguing over stupid things, then both of them refusing to cede ground. Not talking, not touching. 

“We just keep pissing each other off. He thinks I’m trying too hard and I don’t think he’s trying enough.” Aether scrubs at his face.

"Maybe he has a point. It's your Papa's job to be the backbone. That doesn't fall to you," Omega says, taking another sip. 

Aether feels his posture slump. “But we don't have a Papa. I feel like it _does_ fall to me.” 

“It's your _Cardinal's_ job,” Omega says, correcting himself easily. “And as your mentor, my official advice is just to focus on yourself.” His rings clack together as he rests his hand on Aether's shoulder. “The rest will either fall into place or it won't. You’re not fucking _Atlas_. You’ll deal with.”

“I’ll deal with it,” Aether repeats flatly, unconvinced. He feels tension gathering in between his shoulder blades like dark clouds, buzzy with lightning ready to strike.

“You're carrying a burden,” Omega says, more a statement than a question, and Aether nods. Omega reaches up and scritches his hair, getting at the freshly shaved buzz of the sides, and Aether resists the urge to hang a little _Gone Fishing_ sign up in his mind and just drift away on that feeling forever. 

Omega is thoughtfully silent for a beat before he speaks. “Why don't you let me take it tonight?” 

Aether looks at him sidelong, wondering if he heard right. The gears of his brain are still grinding through all the implications of that when he says, “Take _what?”_

Omega’s just smiling at him, that infuriating little face he makes when he knows something that Aether doesn’t. He taps his fingers on his lips like he’s figuring out how to phrase his next words before continuing.

“Aether,” Omega says, picking up Aether’s hand. He rubs a calloused thumb over Aether’s pointer finger, then the next digit, then traces the way down the rest of his hand. “The bodies that we’ve been given - they need to be cared for. The Unholy Father wants you to feel good. I know you haven’t been treating yourself well.” He gives Aether a look that is so _painfully_ and ridiculously earnest that Aether almost wants to laugh. “You can’t pour from an empty cup,” he finishes, giving Aether’s hand a little squeeze. 

Mortification and the urge to ask exactly what filling his cup would entail battle in Aether for a moment before hot, prickling embarrassment finally wins out. “You can _tell_ I haven’t been having sex?” he finally gets out, pulling his hand back and setting it down self-consciously in his lap.

He looks down at his lap to occupy himself, but also to check and see if maybe there’s a stamp that says _I NEED TO GET LAID_ on his hand that he missed. Nothing, unless it’s invisible. “How?” he asks, feeling his ears burn. 

“Quintessence,” Omega says with a flourish, doing a complicated hand gesture. “Also, Dewdrop told me."

_Dewdrop._ Aether covers his face and wonders if he can manifest himself directly into Hell if he wills it hard enough. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Hey, hey. Alpha and I piss each other off, too,” Omega says apologetically, pulling Aether's hands away from his face. “Sometimes you need a breather. Don't be embarrassed.”

Aether looks at him miserably. Omega sighs and tries again. 

“This is coming out wrong. Look, he told me you might be coming by soon and that you needed--” he searches for the right word. “A gentler hand right now. A little relief. Whatever that means for you,” he says quickly, holding Aether’s hands in his own. 

This is too much, Aether thinks, heart thumping treacherously in the cage of his chest. Dewdrop had been right on the money that he'd run to Omega for help, and he can’t tell right now if that’s touching or infuriating. Part of him wants to bolt, leave an Aether-shaped hole in the wall, then consider this at greater length in his room with the familiarity of his hand, which doesn’t ask questions or give long speeches about _cups_ or tell embarrassing things about him to his attractive mentor. 

But another part of him - quite a substantial part, the biggest slice of the pie chart in his mind - is rooted to the spot on the couch, waiting to see how this turns out. 

“Aether - part of _quintessence_ is just knowing what the body needs. I know this. You know this,” he says. He stops for a second, considering. “Even Dewdrop knows this, somehow. I’m still working that one out.”

Aether feels a little smile sneaking on his face in spite of himself. 

“Look - sometimes you just need something else for a little while,” Omega says, reaching up to cup Aether's cheek. His hand is still warm from the mug. 

Omega smells like black tea and honey and the strange electric crackle of the _ether_ , of power zinging through wires and bodies and biomes and all the spaces in between. Unfamiliar and familiar, part of him and part of Omega. Aether finds himself inhaling a little deeper, steadying himself, and remembering that this is _good_ , that this is _Omega_ , and that it’s not such a bad thing to be known by someone you trust. 

Omega's hand is very warm on his cheek. Aether feels the heaviness around his shoulders ease and settle somewhere else entirely.

“If this is too much, just say the word,” Omega says. “But... you did sort of show up at my doorstep in the middle of the night. And I thought…” There’s the curl of a teasing smile in his voice as his thumb brushes against Aether's bottom lip, one shoulder doing a little _why not?_ half-shrug.

Aether watches his eyes linger there, but he doesn't say anything yet, just looks at Omega's soft eyes and his honest, open face.

Omega’s thumb climbs a little higher, and the movement parts Aether's lips. He feels his breath catch. 

Omega presses just enough to part Aether's mouth further, and then the rough pad of his thumb is grazing his tongue where it sits expectantly against the bottom row of his teeth. Aether feels his heart kick in his chest, one big loud _thump_ that sends his blood fizzing.

“Look, this is not exactly a selfless offer, if that's what you're worried about.” Omega says, and he almost sounds abashed. 

Aether's pleased smile is hidden in Omega's palm as he turns his face into his hand. “Oh?”

“Yes, yes, you're very handsome and you know it,” Omega says, rolling his eyes and laughing. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkles as he smiles. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Cheeks pinking, Aether finds that he does. And so he says yes. 

Omega leans in and replaces his thumb with his mouth, warm and sweet from the tea, his lips plush and gentle. It's easy and it's nice - very nice, actually. Omega’s big hands slide around his face in a steadying cradle, and Aether just lets himself be kissed.

And it’s strange for a kiss not to be searing, Aether thinks. Omega’s mouth on his is only warm and gentle, lips just barely parted. He’s moving slowly, politely - gentlemanly, even. Aether almost wants him to move faster, but something about the fact that Omega is being so careful with him - well. Perhaps he'd be forgiven for thinking it’s nice to be cared for.

Omega hums happily against his mouth, a hand drifting a little lower to brush the curl of chest hair at the top of Aether’s collar. “This okay?”

“I- yeah, very,” Aether says in the narrow space the narrow space between kisses, a little dazed. 

“You didn’t take much convincing,” Omega says with a smile, just _this_ side of sleazy, shifting him closer. They’re still both sort of sitting on the couch now - knees touching, bodies angled away from each other, and it almost feels chaste. 

“You, uh. Made a very compelling argument. Relief and - hands and all that,” Aether says, stuttering a little when Omega kisses his neck, and Omega’s laugh then is so warm, so affectionate and _happy_ that it makes him ache.

Summoning his courage, Aether chances a hand on Omega’s thigh and squeezes. He’s thickly built, just like Aether, and he can feel the power in the muscle under the softness there, as steady and unyielding as stone. Omega makes a happy sound - almost like a trill, and then - okay, then Aether is _moving,_ because Omega’s hauling him into his lap like it's nothing.

The ghouls at the abbey are as open and free as the doctrine encourages them to be. This isn’t the first time he’s been bedded by someone other than Dewdrop, but it is absolutely and categorically the first time he’s been in someone else’s _lap._ His knees bracket Omega’s legs, big and firm as pylons, and now Omega’s kissing his jaw, right up against the raspy scratch of his stubble, the curve of his ear, his neck. There’s a hand at his chin, directing him gently, getting the angle just right for Omega to slip his tongue past his parted lips. 

He feels swollen and raw, stripped to the bone. It’s so overwhelming that he barely realizes he’s hard until Omega slides a hand over where his cock is straining against his zipper.

“Oh, fuck,” Aether says at the sudden muted relief, like a thumb lifted from a bruise, letting his head forehead rest against Omega's. 

Aether knows, logically, somewhere, rattling around in his brain, that they’re probably about the same size and build - both thicker and heavier than most ghouls, a little taller than average, but Omega’s legs feel like tree trunks beneath him, the hand spanning his back impossibly huge. 

This must be what Dewdrop feels like with him - cradled and surrounded. Small.

“Bed,” Omega says into his mouth, kissing him again, and they fumble their way there. It’s a small cabin, one-bedroom and crowded with knick knacks and salvaged furniture, and it’s only a few steps before the backs of Aether’s knees are hitting the bed and Omega is easing him onto it further.

And then - and then, Omega’s unbuttoning his shirt, and it’s hanging open conspicuously, and they’re laughing at one stubborn button that refuses to give at his wrist - and then it’s off, and Omega is kissing his chest and running his fingers through the soft hair there. He's exploratory, almost, squeezing and cataloging, like Aether is something he wants to learn and map - like the topography of his body is a rare thing worth knowing. 

Aether feels - with sudden, stabbing sharpness - delicate and exposed, flayed open under Omega's hands. He thinks of the pressed flowers Mountain keeps and wonders if that's how he looks - laid out, fragile, something to be cared for. 

He hopes so.

“Oh, Aether, your body--” Omega says, squeezing the meaty part of his chest, thumb brushing the edge of his nipple, and there's such _reverence_ there that Aether turns his face into the pillow, ears burning. He feels Omega move his big hand down, stroking the softness of his stomach before unbuttoning and easing his slacks down, his boxers, until there's nothing left.

Omega's mouth returns to his again, crawling over him, and this time there's nothing chaste about the way he kisses him - the slick slide of his tongue, the edge of fangs where he bites and sucks his lip. The weight and heft of his body on Aether's is so foreign and heavy. He's never felt _small_ like this before, spread out beneath someone larger like a precious thing. He feels blanketed, pressed down, like everywhere Omega touches is protected and weighted.

His cock is trapped between them. Bare and rubbing up against Omega’s shirt, probably leaving little damp patches on the fabric, he thinks. In a flashbulb moment of fantasy, he wonders what it would be like if it was pressed stiff against the warm bare skin of his belly instead. He groans, hands fisting in Omega's soft shirt, trying to signal in his answering kiss that he wants _that,_ skin on skin with nothing between them. 

Omega must get the message, because he pulls back, mouth wet and red and smiling. He’s breathing hard, and Aether watches his chest rise and fall as he yanks off his shirt. Aether watches it, thinking of the push and pull of air in lungs, blood in bodies, ether and stars and everything else that ties them together. 

His bare chest is broad and thick, and Aether wants to kiss it. Or bite it. Or maybe be pressed down under it. 

Omega catches him staring and grins, doing a silly tough-guy flex before settling over him. 

“What do you want tonight?” Omega asks, dipping to kiss to the soft skin of Aether’s belly, just to the right of where his cock lies thick and heavy.

Aether sighs happily, angling himself into the touch, but something dark crowds around the edge of his consciousness - the heavy weight of _choice,_ the radio-static, directionless anxiety of decision. The stress of the last few weeks, which had been so mercifully quiet, starts to creep in around the edges of his mind again like floodwater in a basement.

Understanding flits across Omega's face. He’s always been good at that - recalibrating in response to some imperceptible tell of Aether’s. He reassesses, sliding his hands down to the neutral territory of Aether’s thighs. 

He looks at him, working his mouth a little, like maybe he’s figuring out what to say too. 

“Do you want me to tell you what to do?” Omega finally asks. He's looking right at Aether now with those soft eyes of his, and there's nothing but kindness and affection there, and understanding that sometimes the greatest relief can come from submission - to a power or an idea, or maybe to another person's careful hands.

Aether breathes in once and lets it go.

"Please," he says. 

Omega strokes his face, smiling, the gentleness of his touch only offset by the metallic bite of his rings. 

“Lie back,” he tells him, and Aether does. 

“Show me how you like it,” he says, and it’s not _quite_ an order, but oh, it’s close. Aether does, a little shyly at first, heart jackhammering, burning under the heat of Omega’s heavy gaze as he watches him. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut, but that feels like it's maybe cheating, so he keeps them open as they both watch the shiny head of his cock disappear and reappear from the tight fist of his hand.

"Wow," Omega breathes, rubbing his fingers through the precome gathering sloppy and wet at the head of his dick while Aether twists underneath him. "What are you thinking about that's got you so hard?" He sinks down to his belly and props himself up on one elbow to get a better view, casual as anything. Before Aether can summon the courage to respond, he leans down and licks the wet tip of him, bumping into Aether's hand as it stutters.

"Oh, fuck," Aether sighs, letting his hand fall away as Omega takes over, his fist looking huge where it swallows his cock. He feels a blush all the way from his horns to his tail, blood rushing south and sideways and everywhere until his whole body is throbbing with it. "I - you. Inside me, maybe?" he says, feeling brave, hips rolling up into Omega's hand.

"Hmm," Omega hums, thoughtful-like, like he’s really got to consider it, but Aether sees the color in his cheeks. He pulls off to lick his hand, getting it good and slick."Yeah?"

Aether nods, dazed with it, feeling ratcheted tighter and tighter as he watches Omega work him over, but his mind's empty of anything except the powerful line of Omega's back as he bends over him now, swallowing him down.

“You feel so good,” Omega breathes when he pulls off, hitching one of Aether’s legs up while his hand works him over hot and tight. Aether just tries to hold on as Omega’s fingers dig in right to the meat of his thigh, squeezing. “Oh, Aether. You’re doing so well for me. Look at you.”

Aether wants to do well for him forever. If he could hang in this moment forever - surrounded by Omega’s body, his love, his praise - nothing else would matter.

When Omega finally fucks him, it's with the sure, steady rhythm of someone who knows exactly what he needs.

\---

"You get kind of an aura," Omega says in a drowsy whisper behind Aether's ear. "When you're relaxed. It's nice. It's sort of... blue."

Aether imagines a cartoon blue cloud around himself that says _Recently fucked by Omega!_ He keeps this to himself. 

“Mmm,” he says sleepily. “What's your aura like?”

“You tell me,” Omega says, holding up an arm in front of Aether’s face. It wobbles lazily, like he’s not quite awake enough to keep it aloft. Aether studies it carefully, but he only sees a mole on the underside of his forearm. No aura. He’ll always be chasing the comet’s trail of Omega’s powers, watching it disappear in the dark ahead of him.

“I don’t see anything,” he admits, but not before sneaking a kiss to Omega’s wrist. 

“Well, I guess we need to train more together, then,” Omega says, dropping his arm and wrapping it around Aether’s bare chest, a long press of warm, firm skin. Omega's breath is hot on Aether's neck when he says, “If that’s okay with you."

A shiver zips its way up Aether’s spine then, the involuntary kind that just ping pongs up your back without stopping to ask permission. It is. It really, really is. 

“I’m never going to hear the end of this from Dewdrop, am I?” 

Omega laughs that funny, high-pitched little laugh of his. “No chance. This is ‘I-told-you-so’ material for at least a year.”

“How exactly did he tell you about this? Or did he… ask?” Even as he's saying it, it doesn't sound right.

“You _know_ he didn't ask. He stopped by this morning. I believe his exact phrasing was _‘Aether’s horny and mad and probably coming by, but pretend it’s not obvious when you talk to him.’_ I think he stole one of my mugs, by the way. I can’t find it anywhere.”

Aether has to mash his face into the pillow to stifle his laugh. "Your Dewdrop impression is awful,” he says, feeling sleepy and silly. “I was going to guess he covered the abbey with posters. _Lost: one Aether ghoul. If found, please fuck before returning to Dewdrop._ ”

Omega’s nose bumps into his neck as he laughs, pulling him closer. He’s quiet for a beat, and then says softly, "Invite him next time."

Aether feels the heavy sleepiness resolve into a sharp kick of _something_ right below his belly at that idea. _Oh._ Okay then. It takes him a second to compose himself before he says, “If you talk to him about filling his cup, he’ll bite you.”

He can hear Omega’s grin without needing to see it. “Don’t worry about me. I have plenty of experience handling fire ghouls. And their teeth.” He’s rubbing Aether’s stomach now in a sleepy circle. “Are you feeling better? Sufficiently distracted? Unburdened?” 

“Distracted, definitely,” Aether says, considering. “Maybe not - not totally unburdened.”

Omega tries to say something, but it turns into a yawn halfway through. “Look, as much as I’d like to - some of us are very old. Morning, I promise.” His voice is raspy with fatigue. Aether remembers what he said about not being able to sleep without Alpha - he thinks with a little spark of shy pride that maybe Omega needed tonight as much as he did. 

“Morning,” he agrees as Omega curls around him, the weight of his arm reassuring and warm. He’ll figure out the rest as he goes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3 find me on tumblr @ ratballet :)


End file.
